Ima bolted from the train and into a cylinder of light. The Logan Square stop looked unlike anything she’d ever seen before. In contrast to the gritty brick of the other stops on the Blue Line, the Logan Square stop was pure white, like stepping into an energy-efficient lightbulb. The eerie emptiness of the train station reminded Ima of untouched snow—beautiful, but lonely. She sprinted down the deserted platform, Nahum not far behind her.
Out of nowhere, guards appeared on either side of them, flooding the tracks below. Nahum had the lead, but he slowed down to grab Ima’s hand. He dragged her along, forcing her to keep his pace. Several of the guards shouted at them, telling them to halt. She heard Vaughn speaking to her father, but she couldn’t make out what they were saying. She didn’t dare look back—she knew it would cost her precious seconds that could mean the difference between escaping or not.
They reached a lit-up bridge made of metal grates, like the kind found on sidewalks, and raced across it. Ima forced herself to look straight ahead, keeping her eyes on the arch.
The green, lit-up arch looked exactly as Vaughn had described. The words “Logan Square” flashed in bright white over it, like stage lights. They had almost made it!
But so had the guards. Ima felt one of the guards at the tips of her hair—he was practically breathing on her. She tried to speed up, but the pain shooting through her body slowed her down.
“Come on!” Nahum said. “We’re almost there!”
Ima felt herself getting weaker with each step. A guard closed in on her, wrapping his hand over her shoulder. She jerked back and the guard’s arms closed around her waist.
Nahum looked back, having lost his grip on her hand. He came toward them and punched the guard. The guard didn’t fall—Ima didn’t think Nahum hit him hard enough—but out of shock, he let her go. Nahum grabbed Ima and they ran, crossing the barrier at the arch.
Beyond the arch, the platform continued to a set of stairs about two hundred feet away. Robots of all sizes, each busily working on a single task, created a madhouse of moving metal contraptions. The robots reminded Ima of one of those Christmas specials she and Dash watched as kids, with the elves who scrambled around the North Pole, getting ready for the holiday rush. None of the robots were watching the scene beyond the barrier, and none took any notice of Nahum and Ima standing under the arch, breathing heavily.
Ima watched as the guards ran toward the barrier and, one by one, disintegrated before they could pass through it. She watched as several other guards harassed the men in hoods, forcing them to show their faces and press their fingers to a small pad.
Two of the guards escorted her father through a door on one of the walls just in front of the bridge. A part of her wondered what they would do with him, but a larger part of her felt relief. Father or not, she hated him.
“They got your father.” Nahum’s voice shook with anxiety. His eyes widened when he looked at her. “Aren’t you worried?”
“They won’t kill him,” Ima replied coldly. She though of her classmates in the theater as it went up in flames. “The ones who deserve to die never do.”
Ima glanced up at Nahum; he looked taken aback. She knew her words had come out harsh, especially when Nahum didn’t know where his own parents were. Or if they even existed. She grabbed Nahum’s hand and squeezed it. He didn’t look down at her; he couldn’t seem to take his eyes off the screen or her father.
“Vaughn wasn’t lying, was he?” Ima asked, glancing back at the robots that swarmed their side of the platform. “Parts of our world are a lie.”
YOU ARE READING
Socialpunk (Socialpunk #1)
Teen Fiction"This book would be good for those that enjoyed the Hunger Games!” ~ Cover 2 Cover Blog "When I read the first page, I did not anticipate that I would be finishing the book that night, but I did. I had to. I didn’t care that I was up until 3:00AM."...
